


Something Wicked This Way Comes

by beatlelover22



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Cold, Common Cold, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, In which Negan is sick, Sick Character, Sneezing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-14
Updated: 2019-10-14
Packaged: 2020-12-15 19:57:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,959
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21023639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beatlelover22/pseuds/beatlelover22
Summary: This was a commission I did a few months ago for sick!Negan. Definitely lots of fun to write. Feel free to reach out if you're looking for a commissioned fic!





	1. The Bloody Aftermath

**Author's Note:**

> This was a commission I did a few months ago for sick!Negan. Definitely lots of fun to write. Feel free to reach out if you're looking for a commissioned fic!

“I’m gonna kill you.”

The voice came out as a whisper. An exhausted promise; a threat if you could call it that. But Rick Grimes was overcome with grief and trauma, and those four words was the best he could do.

He had just watched Abraham and Glenn be bludgeoned to death with Lucille and the images kept playing over and over in Rick’s head. He heard the sickening blows, watch Daryl attempt to hit Negan, and witnessed the aftermath. Rick didn’t even realize a tear had trailed down his cheek.

Negan crouched down to make direct eye contact with him. There was a streak of blood smeared on Rick’s temple, and it make Negan’s stomach twinge with excitement. His heart was beating fast and it wasn’t out of fear. Negan was thinking of all the wonderful possibilities — all the lovely opportunities — to absolutely fuck with Rick.

He watched Rick’s unblinking eyes carefully. “I didn’t quite catch that,” he said. “You’re going to have to speak up.”

Negan held Lucille in his hand and Rick ignored the blood — still very much wet — dripping off of it. Rick was pale and sweating, and quite frankly seemed like he could fall unconscious at any moment.

Negan stared at Rick’s twitching upper lip and chuckled at the sight of him. _Pathetic._

He knew Rick was weak. He knew Rick would have to answer for his crimes. _No, no._ Negan shook his head, thinking to himself. He knew Rick would have to pay.

“Simon, give me that ax, would you?” Negan smirked at Rick, clicking his tongue. “Where’s your right hand man? Oh, no. Did I…? Oh, right, I did.”

He grabbed Rick roughly by the collar and dragged him, weakly kicking, to the waiting trailer while a crowd of people — Saviors and Rick’s own — watched helplessly. Rick thought he caught sight of Michonne, whose braids prevented him from making eye contact with her. Not that this was a good time for that.

“Oh, we’re going to have some fun, right Rick? And maybe I’ll bring him back,” he added to nobody in particular, though possibly Simon or Daryl. “Or maybe I won’t, and we can turn the rest of these good folks inside out, hmm?”

Nobody spoke as Negan half dragged, half tossed Rick inside the trailer. He then took the axe from his belt and threw it. The axe landed neatly, embedded in the nearest piece of furniture. Negan swallowed in an effort to wet his dry throat and grimaced in pain. _Strange._

“You up for a drive?”

Without waiting for an answer, Negan sauntered toward the front of the trailer and sat in the driver’s seat. “Who the hell am I kidding? Of course you are.”

Negan settled himself in the driver’s seat and sniffled, surprised that his nose was even bothering him.

Allergies weren’t usually a problem and he hardly got sick. Surely, he wasn’t getting sick now. He was a leader now — people respected him — and he wasn’t about to show a bout of weakness in front of his loyal followers, no sir.

Even though Rick hadn’t breathed a word for the past 10 minutes, his veiled threat of murder echoed in Negan’s head._ I’m gonna kill you. I’m gonna kill you. _He had to be fucking kidding. This dumbass came here, was ambushed, and had the absolute gall to fight back—

A creak in the floorboards gave Rick away.

Negan whipped around, brandishing Lucille, and came face-to-face with Rick, who was clutching the axe like a lifeline. He was breathing hard and his knuckles were white as he gripped the weapon. Negan felt his stomach flip again and smiled at Rick. This one sure had some guts. And that’s what he liked about Rick.

“Drop it,” Negan said, his voice firm. “Now.”

With a thud, the axe dropped from Rick’s bloodied hand. And with a sickening blow, Negan’s fist made contact with the side of Rick’s head. Seeing a man crumple to the ground so quickly before him made his stomach flutter with exhilaration. And maybe anticipation. If only Rick knew what he was in for. If only.

Negan slammed the axe down, directly to the left of Rick’s head, and lodged it in the wood.

“Don’t make me get up again,” Negan said, crouching down to Rick’s level and sniffling. “Between you and me, I think I’m coming down with something and don’t want to be bothered more than I have to. You understand, right?”

Negan cleared his throat and squinted into the sunlight that was starting to stream into the trailer.

Unexpectedly, his eyes watered and his sinuses prickled. “_H-huh’**SHOOOO! **Whew._ Excuse me. The light just gets me sometimes, you know?”

He knew Rick wouldn’t answer. And part of Rick’s narrow-minded silence annoyed him. His quietness was deafening and honestly, Negan hated it. He rubbed the underside of his nose with his forefinger.

“I want you to sit there and think about what could’ve happened,” Negan told him. “Think about what happened and think about what can still happen. That make sense?”

He sniffled and turned the engine over, and the rusty RV lurched forward with a sluggish, unpromising groan. The vehicle shook and continuing to inch forward.

“Oh, here we go,” he announced as they picked up speed. “You getting excited?”

It was quiet, but the silence didn’t last long. After a few minutes, the vehicle hit a walker head on, and its intestines splattered along the windshield, making Negan laugh. He tried to use the windshield wipers to clean up the mess, but to no avail.

“You know Rick, I’ll never get tired of that sound.”


	2. Fighting Through

The two drove in near-silence, the only noises being Negan’s occasionally sniffling and moaning of the trailer attempting to keep plugging along. He watched the trees pass by, blurring as the vehicle bumped  
along. His nostrils quivered and he gasped inadvertently with the need to sneeze.

Negan quickly rubbed his nose with one hand, irritated. Damn. Maybe he really was getting sick. What was previously a one-off comment was quickly becoming his reality.

Without much warning, he sneezed, without taking his hands off the wheel. “_Heh’**PSHOOO!**_”

His sinuses stung.

Ugh. OK, that one hurt. His throat felt like sandpaper, but Negan pushed the thought out of his mind as the trailer slowed to a stop and the engine cut off. The groaning, growling noises of the walkers sounded so clear they seemed to be coming from inside the trailer.

Negan made his way back over to Rick and studied his glazed eyes before smiling. “You’re mine. You know that, right? I own your ass.”

Rick said nothing. No surprise there. While Negan admired Rick’s instincts and his defiant, heroic attitude, the broken, sweaty man before him irritated Negan. How could someone be reduced to such ash? How could that happen? Negan knew Rick was a leader by trade. Sauntering around in his own right, picking fights here and there. Losing fights here and there. He rubbed his nose absentmindedly before opening the door to the outside.

Negan sniffed and rubbed his nose again, which was itching fiercely. He watched a walker stagger toward him. With one swift motion, he brought Lucille down upon its head with a liquid smash. He grinned. When this earned no reaction from Rick, he tossed the axe outside into the fog, shrouding what  
had to be at least 20 moaning walkers.

He glanced at Rick, who was staring down at the floor, eyes glazed over. This was a truly broken man.

“Hey, Rick? Go get my axe.”

When Rick reluctantly, slowly pulled himself off the trailer’s cheap carpeting, Negan grabbed him by the collar and thrust him out the door. He landed with a thud outside and watched Negan close the door behind him. Finally. Some peace and quiet.

From the window, he watched Rick struggle — weaponless — with a hoard of them. It would’ve been slightly more enjoyable if his throat and nose weren’t bugging him so damn bad, but this would have to do. He sniffled against his wrist until he realized his nose was running and wiped it on the sleeve of his  
leather jacket. _Fuck this cold. Fuck this cold so hard._

Negan yawned and winced as his throat protested. He watched as Rick climbed up the ladder, narrowly missing a walker’s outstretched hand, and made his way to the roof of the trailer. He crawled around on the top of the RV for a few minutes. Negan thought it only fair to let Rick have some alone time up there before cocking his revolver and aiming at the roof. Show time.

“Last chance,” he called out. “Go get my axe!”

Negan punctuated his words with warning shots, shooting holes through the roof of the trailer. He heard Rick scrambling to get his balance and then watched in amazement as the man stood up and took a  
running leap through the air.

He soared through the air and Negan smiled when he saw him grab a hold of a walker dangling from a noose on a nearby bridge. What a goddamn show Rick was putting on. After a few seconds, Rick’s bodyweight started to tear the walker down until they both dropped into the waiting crowd of walkers  
directly below them.

_Shit. _Why couldn’t Rick hold his goddamn own? Negan kicked open the trailer door and began firing into the hoard, briefly rubbing his nose on his shoulder as he did so. With a secret sort of giddy glee, he watched Rick scramble away from the pack of walkers, falling almost face-first into the axe.

With shaking hands, Rick grabbed the handle of the axe.

Back on his feet now, Rick swung the axe with such ease. Left, right, left, right. He fell into a murderous, blood-thirsty rhythm, smashing in the heads of any walker that had the misfortune of coming his way.

This, Negan liked. He looked on as Rick swung and destroyed upwards of 15 walkers stumbling around him, their hands outstretched to touch something warm — something alive.

As Rick neared the trailer, Negan decided to make things more interesting. With a click, he locked the trailer from the inside, and watched Rick desperately trying to open it. Rick slammed his hand on the RV.

“Please!”

Hands grabbed at Rick’s clothing and he felt their fingernails scratch at his skin, trying to get a piece of him. Just as the walkers were starting to overwhelm him, the door opened and Negan fired a round into the crowd of them, effectively saving him.

He grabbed Rick, allowing him inside, and sniffled as he locked the door behind them. Rick had done well. Relatively well.And despite his sore throat, Negan couldn’t help but grin widely at Rick. He cleared his throat again before speaking.

“Attaboy,” he said approvingly, lodging the axe in the table. “Attaboy.”


	3. The Day Will Come

Negan continued to drive and for a couple hours, it began to rain. Hard.  
The droplets pelted the RV’s metal roof and the resulting sound inside the trailer was nearly deafening.

He would’ve have been able to hear if Rick snuck up on him again. Negan let his mind wander and imagined Rick, tip-toeing behind the driver’s seat, raising that heavy weapon above his head until he let gravity take over, smashing Negan’s skull. He pictured his own brain’s grey and white matter splattered  
on the windshield and on the seat.

He let the intrusive thoughts go, determined to stay realistic. After all, he wasn’t really worried about Rick, mostly because he had locked Rick up in the back room, and Negan could still feel the key in his pocket. He wasn’t surprised when Rick didn’t put up a fight, but he was also a bit relieved. He could feel  
himself getting sicker by the minute and new this headcold was going to kick him on his ass.

Without taking his hands off the wheel, he sneezed loudly into his shoulder.  
“_Hh’**EHSHOO!**_”

The silence following was noticeable. Negan half-expected to hear Rick call out a “bless you!” 

He shook his head, as if trying to clear it, and ended up sneezing again. “_Uh’**SSHHSHOO!**_”

The second sneeze made his head hurt, and he was surprised when he heard himself audibly groan.

Thankfully, they were almost back. After a few minutes, he took his foot off the gas pedal and the trailer squealed as Negan applied the brakes.

Negan unlocked Rick’s door and sniffed, staring at him. When Rick didn’t move, Negan slammed his fist on the wall. “Hey.”

“We’re here, prick,” he said nasally, opening the door wider. “Aw, is this hard for you?”

Rick didn’t answer. _No surprise there, _Negan thought. The silence pressed him to continue.

“Rick, you’ve been king for some time. It m-must have been hard to see two of your— _hh’**ESHHOO!**_” 

Negan snapped forward with another desperate-sounding sneeze and silently hoped he wouldn’t sneeze again. Weak-willed men disgusted him and having a cold made him feel… weak. There was no other way to describe it.

“It must’ve been hard to see two of your own gone, just like that,” he said, snapping his fingers for emphasis. “Getting them clipped like that — one nut, then the other — and in front of your boy? Whew, that had to be tough.”

Negan shook his head, and took the opportunity to quickly run a finger under his nostrils, sniffling again.

“I mean, hey. That’s some fucked up shit.”

He opened the trailer’s medicine cabinet and snatched a bottle of hydrogen peroxide, smiling to himself. Oh, goody. He picked up the axe and rubbed the bloody blade on Rick’s leather jacket, smearing the innards of walkers and probably human victims on his clothes. Rick resisted the urge to duck out of his way.

Then Negan opened the bottle of peroxide and watched its contents escape as he poured the stuff all over the blade. He was grateful he was so congested, because the smell of hydrogen peroxide made him nauseous.

“Boom, boom. Well, that’s all over isn’t it? Over and done with, huh?”

Rick shrugged away from him as Negan sat down, wiping the axe off with a dirty towel. Negan did so in the quiet, until he decided to fill the space with some words of wisdom.

“But you know, you can still be a leader, Rick. You can lead a productive, fruitful life, producing for me. What’s better than that?”

Like usual, Rick didn’t answer. His blue eyes looked watery as Negan extended the now-clean axe across the table. A peace offering. Not really.

“You’ll need it,” he said, holding it out. “I just got a feeling.”

He sniffled, waiting for Rick to take it, and rubbed his nose, aggravated. “Take it, Rick. Jesus Christ.”

Rick snatched the weapon from Negan without saying a word. After a few tense seconds, Negan suddenly grabbed Rick by his collar and dragged him out of the trailer, just like before. They were surrounded by others — the Saviors, all standing in a circle staring at them — and Negan wanted a final show. He threw Rick to ground, who landed face first.

“Let me ask you something Rick,” Negan said, his sinuses prickling. _Fuck_. “Do you even know what that little trip was _a-ahhh_… about?

Rick began to pull himself out of the dirt as Negan’s breath caught again and he snapped forward with a loud sneeze. “_Hih’**RDSCHOO!**_”

Nearby, one of the Saviors jumped at the sudden sound. Rick’s son, Carl, watched his father stand, shakily.

Negan rubbed his nose on his sleeve, irritated. “Speak when you’re spoken to,” he snapped at the man in front of him.

“Okay,” Rick said, his voice hoarse and gravelly.

“We took that trip because of the way you looked at me,” Negan explained, still sniffling. 

_If only his goddamn nose would stop running. _“I needed to change that. I needed to change that look on your face, you know?”

As Rick looked up at him, Negan shook his head. Rick was still looking at him the same damn way as before. His spirit was seemingly unbreakable.

“Should I give you another chance, Rick? Because I’m just not sure.”

Rick nodded before his voice returned. “Y-yes,” he said, his words barely a whisper. “Yes.”

Negan smiled, flashing his teeth. “Let’s get back to it, then. It’s been a shit day, hasn’t it?”

He didn’t wait for Rick to respond. “Let’s see if it’s just going to be your shit day, or everyone’s last shit day. What do you think?”

Negan watched Rick glace around at the other’s from his group. Michonne. Carl. Daryl. Most of them didn’t look it, but they were afraid.

“L-let’s get some guns on ’em,” Negan stammered before snapping forward with another sneeze. “_Huh’**SZSHOOO!**_”

The Saviors did as ordered, and handful of them cocked their weapon and put it against the skulls of Rick’s people. Negan saw Rick’s Adam’s apple bob and Negan felt his stomach flip. There was something about seeing true fear in another man that did things to him.

Negan snuffled into the back of his hand, shaking his head. “If y’all have to fire, man. This is going to make a real big mess.”

He pointed at Carl and saw the light in Rick’s eyes disappear. “Hey kid,” Negan said, beckoning Carl over.

“Come here. Right here.” 

Wordlessly, Carl stood up from where he’d been kneeling and walking toward his father and the man holding his father captive. He stared fearlessly at Negan.

“You use your left hand a lot?”

“What?” Carl snapped, defensive.

Negan smirked, patient. “Are you a lefty?”

“Nope.”

He nodded, examining a long, leather belt in his hand. “Alright, good.”

Negan grabbed Carl’s left arm roughly and tightened the belt around it, sniffling all the while. Fuck this stupid cold. He was making a makeshift tourniquet, whether or not the kid knew it. All that was important to Negan was that Rick knew what he was doing to his son.

“That hurt?” he asked, tightening the belt some more.

Carl shook his head. “No.”

“It’s supposed to,” he said, snatching Carl’s hat off his head and tossing it to one of the Saviors. “Alright, sit down next to your daddy. Let’s get this show on the road.”

Carl knelt on the gravel until Negan pushed him flat on his stomach, then nodded, satisfied. He felt the urge to sneeze again, but fought it off, blinking back tears.

Negan then searched the group of people until he saw the man he was looking for. “Hey, Simon. You got a pen I can borrow?”

The other man nodded. “Sure,” he said, tossing a marker Negan’s way. Negan took the marker and drew a thick, black line on the upper half of Carl’s arm.

“There we go. Perfect. Couldn’t have done it better.”

“Please,” Rick said, his voice hushed and barely above a whisper. “Please don’t. Don’t do it.”

Negan chuckled, then gasped with the sudden urge to sneeze. “_H-huh! Huh’**FFSHHOO!** _Ooh, did I get ya?”

Rick ignored it. “You don’t have to do this,” he said, voice cracking.

“Me?” Negan smiled, spitting into the dirt. “Oh, I ain’t doing shit.”

He dragged his forearm under his nose before continuing. “Listen, Rick. I want you to use that axe and just go ahead and cut your son’s left arm off. That’s it. Just right on that line I drew.”

Neither Carl nor Rick said a word. The area was silent, save for Negan’s quick sniffs.

“Okay, I get it. You’re processing what I just said. That’s fine. I still need you to do it, though,” Negan said, gesturing to Rick’s people. “Or all these folks here are going to die.”

This time, it was Michonne who spoke up. “Please, you don’t have to do this. We understand — we all do,” she told him shakily.

Negan shook his head. “No, see, you understand. I don’t think old Rick here gets it. _E-ehh_… excuse me for one— _hh’**PFSSHSH!**_”

He rubbed his pink nostrils before continuing. “Listen, it needs to be a clean slice. I know it’s fucked up to say, but kind of like a slice of salami. Just a clean cut, nothing messy.”

Rick didn’t move.

“We have a great doctor here,” Negan said, smiling. “The kid will be fine, probably.”

Negan saw a bead of sweat drip down Rick’s forehead. “Rick, I need this now. Let’s go.”

“Let it be me,” Rick said, voice trembling. “Do it to me. Please.”

Negan shook his head. “Uh huh. That’s not what I want. Pick up the axe, Rick.”

When Rick didn’t move, Negan grabbed Lucille. “If you don’t make a decision Rick, you’re making an even bigger decision. You really want these people to die? You’ll see every little thing — every ugly thing — and your eyes will be wide open the whole time.”

Rick moaned but it didn’t sound human. It was the noise of a broken animal. Negan slammed Lucille on the ground. “I’m counting! Three!”

“Please,” Rick sobbed. “It can be me. It can be me.”

“Two!” All this yelling was sure hurting his sore throat.

“Please don’t do this,” Rick cried out.

Negan slapped his face and grabbed his chin, pulled Rick close to him. He started into Rick’s watery eyes, resisting the urge to sneeze again. The man looked soulless.

“Rick, this is it,” he said.

Rick took the axe in his trembling hands and let out a guttural moan.  
Negan turned to see Carl’s reaction. He was lying motionless on the ground, watching his father. 

“Just do it, Dad,” he said. “Just do it.”

Rick raised the axe above his head, sobbing, and felt Negan’s hand on his wrist. “Rick, you’re mine. Do you understand that? You provide for me. You belong to me.”

Rick stared up at him, lip trembling and tears running down his face. “Right?”

The other man seemed frozen and Negan, fed up, grabbed Rick’s face. “Speak when you’re fucking spoken to,” he snapped, before his jaw went slack. “_Hih’**RRISSH!**_” 

He just narrowly missed sneezing on Rick.

“Yes, yes,” Rick choked out, gasping for breath.

“You answer for me! You provide for me!”

“I provide for you,” Rick said hoarsely.

“You belong to me, right?”

“Right,” he nodded, breathing heavily. Another tear slipped down his cheek.

Negan clapped. “Yes! See, that is the look I wanted to see. Right there.”  
He took off his red bandana and dabbed at his nose. “Everyone, we did it! We all did it, together. Even those dead guys. Shit, they did as much as any of us, right? Today was a fucking productive day.”

Negan’s voice was hoarse and he strained it, trying to yell. “I hope for all your sake that you get it now. I hope you understand how things work here. Whatever you had going for you, that was a pipe dream. It’s over now.”

He pointed to Daryl. “Hey, Simon? Load him up. He’s got guts. I like him.”

As they forced Daryl into a truck, Negan bent close to Rick. “You know why I like him? Because he’s not a fucking pussy like someone else I know.”

“And you know what? You still want to kill me?” Negan asked, shoving Rick until he lost his balance. “I’ll cut pieces off of whatever his name is — Daryl, or whatever — I’ll cut pieces off him and make you eat them. Or better yet, I’ll make you do the messy work.”

“We’ll leave you a truck and be back in one week to collect our offerings,” Negan said. “And by then you _b-behhh_… you better — _**HRRISCH! **H-hih! Hh’**SHUHHH!**_ — you better have lots of goodies for me.”


End file.
